


a story about death (a true story)

by takethebreadsticksandRUN



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Amazing, Canon, Death, Fluff, GERTRUDE'S, M/M, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), actual, and also because i say so, because martin loves it, could elias beat up gertrude robinson?, discussing a kinda heavy topic but in a light way, folks, gerry forgives gertrude bc he is nice, it's - Freeform, jon is hooked on the great british baking show, not in a fair fight, pretty canon compliant, sorta kinda but it's nonreligious, there is an afterlife, watching tv together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:20:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethebreadsticksandRUN/pseuds/takethebreadsticksandRUN
Summary: Jon and Martin discuss the what-ifs. Gertrude gets pissed off when they mess up how she died. Therefore, she must tell her loyal audience what REALLY happened.ORStorytime with spooky ghost Archivist grandma.
Relationships: Gerard Keay & Gertrude Robinson, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	a story about death (a true story)

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha this one was SO FUN TO WRITE GUYS. so in the season hiatus a few months ago, there was a q and a with jonny and alex and jonny revealed gertrudes actual canon death. it's lovely. link to an amazing animatic abt it in the end notes.   
> hope y'all enjoy it! let me know what you think.  
> xxx

The TV in front of them droned on, filling a pleasant lapse in conversation. “Welcome back to the Great British Baking Show. Contestants Amy and Samuel have decided to take a risky spin on the challenge, opting to use unconventional methods in the creation of their crème brulee. Amy used a quick toasting of hazelnut…”

Jon nestled into Martin’s side, the comforting weight of his arm holding him close. It was unfamiliar yet felt like home.

“Jon?”

“Hm?” he mumbled sleepily; his eyes closed.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things had gone differently?” Martin asked quietly, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes,” he answered slowly. The truth was, he spent too much time going over the unknowns and what-ifs, trying to See what had caused them to end up in a safe house owned by a feral ex-cop, hiding from a psychotic boss to avoid being framed. Again.

“I wonder how Gertrude would deal with Elias,” Martin said with a soft huff of laughter.

“I think about that a lot too. I wish we could talk to her; I’ve got some serious questions…” he finished threateningly.

“Yes, Jon, go off!” he cheered in hushed tones.

“For one, why didn’t she tell anybody about, you know, _this_?” He gestured broadly at the world, indicating the Entities, Jonah Magnus, and the Archives in general.

“It’s easier to just pretend she didn’t know anything,” Martin said. Jon sat up a little, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Plus there is the inescapable fact that Gertrude Robinson is dead.”

“Dead as a doornail,” Martin chimed in cheerfully, much too brightly. “Even if Elias _hadn’t_ murdered her, I doubt she would have survived much longer.” He held back a laugh. “Jon, she would be _so old_.”

“Honestly, between dying a slow and painful death of some cancer or other and a measly gunshot to the heart, I believe she would have preferred the bullet,” he said seriously, trying not to smile.

“Elias wouldn’t have had to wait that long for her to kick it. Old as she was, it probably didn’t take much to do her in.” Martin couldn’t help but chuckle, imagining their elderly Archivist.

“Just a little puff of air, goodbye Gertrude!” Jon laughed and tucked himself back into his arms, curling his hand around Martin’s.

In another world, a similar reality overlapping their own, Gertrude Robinson hummed in disappointment. The spirit world, while far from heaven, was far enough from the hell she had imagined would await her that she was happy being dead. If you could call it that.

“Jon, you really underestimate me,” she said disapprovingly, to no one in particular. “My death was much braver than a _puff of air knocking me over._ ”

“Really?” Tim popped up behind her; he had been eavesdropping.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Stoker,” she said, disconcerted at his appearance. “I take it you are enjoying the afterlife?”

“Oh yeah, it’s great,” he called from ten feet up in the air where he had begun turning somersaults. “But what were you saying about your death?”

“It’s nothing-“

“Aww, come on, Gertrude, tell us the _real_ story!” begged Sasha, solidifying below Tim.

“Good to see you, dear, but I’m afraid not. It’s unimportant now.”

“Please?” A deep voice grunted as a strong arm wrapped around her small frame.

“Gerry…” Gertrude sighed, her conviction wavering.

“Aww, come one, it sure beats watching Jon and Martin be adorable together!” Tim dove towards the ground, landing on his feet without a sound. They may be in the world, but the departed left no imprint upon it. Physics? Gravity? Pfft, no rules here.

“I think they’re _so cute_ ,” Sasha swooned exaggeratedly. “Took them long enough.”

Gertrude nodded fervently. “It was exhausting just seeing them not notice each other for _four years_.”

“Guys, guys, we’re getting sidetracked,” Gerry said.

“He’s right. Tell us the story!” Tim began to chant, the others joining in.

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us! Tell-“

“Alright, alright!” Gertrude laughed. “I will tell you _how I died since you are so eager to find out._ ”

Tim, Sasha, and Gerry all seated themselves on the ground at her feet, looking at her expectantly.

“So what do you all know so far?” she asked.

“Oh! Oh! Pick me!” Tim waved his hand in the air eagerly, acting very much like a schoolchild.

“You don’t have to- whatever,” she sighed. “Mr. Stoker.”

“Elias shot you and you died.”

“Well, that’s not entirely wrong…”

Sasha laughed. “What do you mean?”

“Elias did shoot me, but that’s not the whole story.” Gertrude smiled; a demented thing that made one feel quite scared.

“Get on with it!” Gerry crowed. The others cheered.

“Alright…” she conceded defeat. “Elias found me in the tunnels where I was doing some, ah, _extra research_. When he walked in, in that pompous way he has-“

“Ah yes, we know what you are talking about.” Sasha and Tim exchanged knowing glances. Gerry laughed.

“He marched in like he owned the place, a gun in his hands. I immediately knew what was going to happen, really, I’m not daft. He was here to kill me.”

“Ungrateful idiot,” Gerard muttered.

“Yes, yes, quite ungrateful, isn’t he? Anyways, I Knew he didn’t know how to use the gun. He just wasn’t confident, you see. But he was determined. Without giving me chance to draw anything but a breath, he fired. Shot me straight in the chest,” she said dispassionately as if she was discussing the weather patterns in London.

Her audience looked disappointed. “And you died?” Sasha asked.

Gertrude cackled. “Not quite, dearie. I wasn’t gone that easily. I’ve had more than my fair share of bullet wounds. A story for another day-“ She waved away Gerard’s incoming questions. “A single bullet wouldn’t kill me. I lunged across the desk at him- calisthenics really works wonders- and Elias didn’t seem so confident then.”

“I bet he screamed,” Tim said wistfully.

“Actually, he did.” Gertrude smiled as Gerry laughed, Sasha falling back on her hands in surprise. “Like a little child,” she said reminiscently. “So- he screamed and fired his gun again, three times, no less, but he missed again.”

“Pretty poor marksman,” Sasha said.

“Hm, yes indeed,” she hummed. “I almost had him pinned up against the wall, my machete at his throat-“

“Wait, you had a machete?” Tim asked in surprise. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot that part. I kept a machete under my desk, just in case, you know.”

Her audience, apparently, did not know but went along with it.

“My machete at his throat, I was about to tell him to leave and never come back to this place when I realized I had forgotten about his gun.”

“Forgot?” 

“Yes, Sasha dear, I forgot.”

“How? You had a _bullet hole in your chest?_ ”

“It was an irrelevant wound.” Tim and Gerard exchanged bemused looks but kept quiet. “He shot me again, and this time I knew he had hit something important. Took him long enough.” Gertrude patted the space above her heart. “And I was going to die. I fell to the ground and Elias ran, like the coward he is.”

“And then you died?” Tim asked in awe.

“Then I died,” she agreed.

“ _Wow_ ,” Sasha breathed, “That’s-“

“Incredible?”

“Like something out of a James Bond movie?” Offered Gerry and Tim, in turn.

“ _Yes,_ ” she said.

“You flatter me, dearies.” Gertrude smiled. “Never underestimate the resilience of an old lady with a machete!”

They nodded fervently, their faces a mixture of awe and fear.

**Author's Note:**

> here's that video  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L6F-p7JCYLA  
> check it out guys! love those tma animatics. shoutout to all of the talented artists who are doing what i cannot. it is my job as a humble writer to take you places with my words, but those artists man. are incredible. at visualization. I LOVE ANIMATICS. SO MUCH. ESPECIALLY THE BULLY ELIAS ONE THAT ONE IS GREAT  
> actually here is the link to that one bc screw it i'm tired and y'all need seratonin.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6kQU8VCyus&list=PLOaGCIHlGtqSDcyICwZSqBurVjMpe5wUN


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